


Stand-In

by Raufnir



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Background Ignoct, Fluff, I'm so weak for these two, M/M, Ratings may change later, Sweetness, but gladdy's there to step in and rescue the date, eventual smut probably, just a bunch of fluff at the moment, let's see where this goes, promptio, this was supposed to be a lil one shot and turned into story, who the hell stands prompto up?, with chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2019-01-10 03:01:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12289842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raufnir/pseuds/Raufnir
Summary: On the second 'first date' they'd tried to organise, it's obvious he's not coming. With a waitress rubbing salt in the wound of being stood up, Prompto is on the verge of snapping when a mysterious and handsome stranger steps in and rescues Prompto's pride. Deciding to roll with it, Prompto wonders if this is going to be the best or the worst thing to happen to him. Lots of fluff, a little angst, and potential smut later. One of those AUs where Noct isn't a prince, but is the son of a stupendously wealthy businessman...





	Stand-In

**Author's Note:**

> This happened after seeing a prompt on Tumblr which was pretty much 'someone steps in and spares you the embarrassment of being stood up, and says, “Just go with it, yeah? Whoever didn’t bother to show up is a dick.”' I've got enough stories on the go that I really didn't need to start this one, but I just had to. Working on Chapter Two right now.

Tears prickled Prompto’s eyes. This was the second ‘first’ date they’d tried to organise. The first one the other guy had backed out because of ‘work issues’, but today there’d not even been a text to say he’d be late. The waitress, all dyed blonde hair piled up on her head and orange foundation trowelled on inches thick, turned away from staring at him and started snickering to her co-workers that the ‘lil baby got stood up’. Only one of them looked disgusted at her behaviour, but Prompto was too angry to notice.

She came over just one more time, notepad in hand, and smiled her most condescending smile yet. “Look, _sweetie_ ,” she said, her saccharine smile making Prompto’s blood curdle, “She ain’t coming.” She tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and giggled patronisingly. “Can’t say I blame her, but you gotta order something, or I’m gonna have to ask you to leave.”

Prompto ground his teeth, and then he just snapped. He threw the napkin, which he’d been idly tearing to shreds, down on the table and planted his palms on the scrubbed wooden surface. His chair scraped raucously as he shoved himself to his feet. The waitress stepped back. “Actually, it’s a _he_ I’m waiting for, you narrow minded –” but he was cut off short as a huge figure loomed over both of them. Prompto didn’t see where he’d come from, but suddenly he was there, filling the space. _Great_ , Prompto thought, _yeah, leap to **her** rescue why don’t you?_ But he stepped quietly past the table and drew back the chair opposite Prompto. He was built like a bull, but his eyes were kind as he stood there regarding the two of them. He offered a grin and a fleeting wink that only Prompto could see.

A scar slashed right up his cheek, stretching as he smiled. “Sorry I’m so late, babe, traffic is crazy right now,” he smiled. Then, to Prompto’s utter shock, the man leaned over the small table, reached one hand out and placed it on his shoulder, and actually kissed his cheek. The waitress blushed and shuffled uncomfortably before retreating at like an affronted chocobo, but Prompto didn’t notice her leaving. The man’s short, dark beard scratched Prompto’s soft cheek, and he felt a flashing shock branch out under his skin at the contact. “I’m Gladio,” he hissed as he squeezed Prompto’s bony shoulder between strong fingers. The gesture was gentle though. “Just go with it, yeah? Whoever didn’t bother to show up is a dick.”

Prompto croaked something vague in assent, and the man called Gladio nodded in acknowledgement before dropping casually into the chair he’d pulled out. Prompto swallowed, his eyes wide, caught on the point of bolting like the terrified rabbit he felt like he was, or staying and finding out if this could be the best thing ever to happen to him.

His knees gave way which sort of decided things for him.

Gladio looked pleased with himself, though not overly arrogant, and he turned to flash that thousand kilowatt smile at the waitress. She came over the instant she saw him. “Can I get you something?” she said, though pointedly not looking at Prompto.

Gladio shrugged out of his leather jacket to reveal a black tank top, and arms so taut and sculpted that Prompto felt his throat go dry and his pants shrink a size or two, and he was covered in the most painstakingly precise, tattooed feathers he could ever have imagined. Tanned skin beneath formed a perfect canvas for his artwork. Prompto wasn’t the only one affected by the sight of Gladio’s biceps and shoulders, and he caught the waitress biting her bottom lip in what might have been an attempt at seduction. His long hair was tied back in a scruffy bun, but a few sections fell forward into bright golden eyes as he turned to look up at her beside their table. “You’d better ask my date,” he said pointedly, extending his palm towards Prompto. “I kept him waiting long enough.” He fixed Prompto with a knowing look and said, “It’s kind of you to have waited for me, but you really _shouldn’t_ have. You must be gasping.”

“I am actually,” Prompto half-squeaked. He ordered first, something hot and sugary and covered in whipped cream. He deserved it after all, even if he’d have to tack on an extra couple of miles to his run tomorrow.

When she’d taken both of their orders and flounced away, hips sashaying with all the allure of a camel’s rear end, Gladio inhaled deeply, looking oddly like a schoolkid who’d just got away with bullshitting a teacher. “Well,” he said, running his palms down his thighs. “Look, tell me to piss off if you’d rather just call it a day. I just couldn’t stand that kicked puppy look on your face.”

“It’s a face I know pretty well,” he mumbled, fiddling with a cardboard drinks mat on the table. “Thanks though,” he added, looking up at Gladio. He thought he might be couple of years older than him, but the other differences between them were colossal. He had to be twice as wide as Prompto, and almost a foot taller, but he had a kind smile. “I appreciate it.”

“Don’t sweat it. Was it someone you know?”

“First date. Well, second attempt at a first date.”

“He stand you up once already?”

“Don’t rub it in,” Prompto said miserably. “He said he had work problems last time.” He shrugged. “Anyway, enough about him.” He flashed Gladio his most mischievous smile, and said, “Think I got myself an upgrade though. Tell me about yourself?”

Gladio hitched a lopsided smirk and barked a big baritone laugh, his eyes crinkling in the corners. “What do you wanna know?”

“You in the habit of picking up strays in cafés?”

He shook his head. “Nope.” He fished out a battered old novel with a russet cover which was sticking out of his jacket pocket and waggled it. “I like to come here to read. It’s nice – one of the few places where they don’t play music…” He shrugged and put the book back before Prompto could read the title. Gladio smiled again and said, “Why don’t you tell me the stuff I’d already know about you if I were the guy who was supposed to be sitting here instead…?”

Prompto smiled. The guy was trying so hard to be sweet. “Ok…” And as with all things, it got easier when he began.

Photography and running were the subjects they spent most time on. It was obvious that Gladio liked to work out, but finding out that he also liked camping and trail running brought a smile to Prompto’s freckled face. “I’ve always wanted to go trail running, but I was too nervous to join a club or whatever, and I’m not doing it on my own…” he said, finishing up the dregs of his third white-chocolate mocha, two hours later. He’d be running a marathon at this rate, but honestly, he couldn’t have cared less.

“I’d love to show you some of the trails I run,” Gladio said immediately. “I mean, no pressure. We only just met – I don’t want you to think I’m luring you out into the woods before you know me!” He laughed that rich, warm laugh that made Prompto’s stomach flip over and over, though that might have been from an excess of sugary liquid in his tummy.

“Ok,” he said, licking his lips.

Gladio’s golden eyes caught the movement, watching the tip of his tongue move, and he swallowed visibly before reaching into a pocket to check his phone. “Shit,” he swore when he saw the time. “I gotta go! I had no idea we’d been here this long. I gotta pick my sister up from dance class.” He pushed himself back from the table and took out his wallet in the same smooth movement. He went up to the counter without looking back at Prompto, drawing out a load of gil and quietly putting it on the counter.

Gladio turned and joined him on his way out, pausing to let Prompto go ahead of him with a wave of his hand. Gladio walked to the door behind Prompto, but nipped ahead at the last moment to hold it open for him to pass through. The chilly autumn wind rushed in, and Prompto gasped, nuzzling into his jacket.

Turning around once they were out on the street, Prompto said, “Look, thanks for keeping me company. You didn’t have to do that. I’m…” he rocked back on his heels and looked at the floor for a moment, feeling that tell-tale heat creeping up his neck to his cheeks. Knowing he’d be a violent shade of pink if he didn’t speak and then immediately leave, he gabbled, “I’m glad you did though. I had fun. Thank you. And thank you for paying. You didn’t have to do that either. And I’m sorry I made you late to pick your sister up. Say sorry to her for me, will you?” and he turned to leave.

“Hey,” Gladio chuckled, grabbing his arm at the elbow and holding him in place with a firm but gentle hand. “Wait. Look,” he said, letting go of Prompto once he knew he wasn’t going to shoot away. “I’d like to give you my number. I’d also like to ask you out for another date. Would… Would that be ok?”

Prompto blinked, cheeks definitely pink, and swallowed. “Uh… Sure… I mean… You don’t have to… You’ve already been nice enough to me…”

“I’m not asking to be nice, Prom,” he said, and already that nickname felt nice. It felt _right_. “I’m asking because I like you. You seem fun. And you’re sweet. Look, lemme give you my number anyway. Then you can decide if you want to or not.” He dug around for a pen from an inner pocket of his jacket, giving Prompto a flash glimpse at that massive tattoo on his shoulder, and then he’d scooped up Prompto’s arm and was writing his number on his paper-pale skin.

The ballpoint hurt a bit, but the touch was incredible. The way he held his hand like it was a small bird made Prompto’s joints turn to water. When he’d finished, he let Prompto’s hand fall to his side and smiled briefly. “Hope to see you,” he said. “And I’m sorry I gotta run.”

He’d gone two steps in the opposite direction before a rush of either bravery or madness overcame Prompto and he called out in a high tenor that cracked slightly. “Wait!”

Gladio stopped, a puzzled frown on his face. “Yeah?”

Prompto pressed his lips together as he did a nervous kind of hop over to him, rallying the last fragments of his courage, and stepped in close. He reached both hands up for the collar of Gladio’s leather jacket, and pulled him down for a kiss. Well, he pulled himself up, because Gladio was too surprised to bend, and too heavy to move. But once he realised what Prompto was doing, he lowered his face and smiled behind the kiss, deepening it and moving one hand to the side of Prompto’s head.

Prompto pulled away before too long and sank down off his tiptoes. His face, he knew, was crimson. He was grateful for the cold wind. “I’ll call you,” he mumbled before turning on his heel and _fleeing._

Gladio stood there a few seconds longer, chuckling to himself, a grin lighting up his handsome face as he watched Prompto’s lean figure marching away up the street with his hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his puffer jacket, the little pale fur collar almost the same colour as his hair.

The harsh jangle of his phone startled him back to the moment, and he jogged down the street towards a large, black motorbike as he answered it. “Yeah, Iris, I’m sorry. I got held up, but when you hear what happened, you’re gonna love it. I promise.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Come talk to me on Tumblr @expectogladiolus or @raufnirsramblings.


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